


Happy Endings

by BlueMonkey, ThornyHedge



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Massage, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 05:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMonkey/pseuds/BlueMonkey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyHedge/pseuds/ThornyHedge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every Tuesday evening at 8:30 p.m., corporate executive Richard Armitage escapes his stressful life and goes to Elysium, where he gets personal attention from his favorite masseur, Aidan. But what happens when things progress from strictly business to strictly pleasure?</p>
<p>Richard Armitage: written by BlueMonkey<br/>Aidan Turner: written by ThornyHedge</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Room Three

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Neither of us know a damn thing about the art of massage. We just wanted to write about hot men touching one another.
> 
> Another Disclaimer: We are not advocating that Richard and Aidan actually do this in real life. _Well, maybe a little..._

As soon as the anthracite Audi pulled up into the parking lot, the staff of wellness salon Elysium straightened their backs and put on their kindest smiles. They had several well-to-do customers, but none visited as regularly or with as specific a demand as this one—nor were any of their tips as generous as his.

It was a Tuesday night, and half past eight. That meant that their most experienced people were stationed near the reception desk, a glass of red wine stood ready to be poured at the end of the appointment and, admittedly, the female half of those at work had their hearts beating a little faster already.

Only for the girl at the reception desk, ready to receive him, it was at least part nervousness. It was the first time this task had been given to her.

"Good day," a man in an impeccable suit smiled down at her. "Armitage, Richard. I have an appointment."

"Of course," she pretended to look over the books out of courtesy, while everyone knew it by heart, herself included. "Right this way, Mr. Armitage. May I take your briefcase?"

He handed it over, redressed in soft white robes in the private dressing room, scented with sandalwood and on the blissful absence of any other sound but for the gentle waterfall that spanned a full wall.

Tuesdays were Richard's favorite day of the week, and that had nothing to do with the special care he received from the staff. He lay down on the massage table on his stomach, leaned his chin on his hands and peacefully closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of feet against the flagstone floor to come.

Only one person in the building seemed completely at ease. Aidan Turner sat in the salon's posh break room, a Coke and an open _Rolling Stone_ magazine on the table before him. He was just starting to read an article about a possible Ska resurgence when Adam poked his head into the room.

"Mr. Armitage is here, Aidan," he smiled knowingly. "Do you want to get him started, or do you want one of us to take care of that?"

Aidan picked up his can of soda and took a measured sip. "I just started this can," he told his smug co-worker. "Can you or Dean take care of it? I'll be in to finish him off."

Adam nodded curtly. "Dean’s free. I'll let him know," he sighed.

"You don't have to be so cranky about it." Aidan turned the page.

"God, it's pretty obvious he comes here for one reason, Aidan," Adam reminded him, "and it's not to see me or Dean." He left in a huff.

Aidan grinned to himself. He couldn't wait to see Richard. But darned if he was going to let his nosey co-workers know that. What went on behind closed salon doors was none of their business. _Twenty minutes,_ he thought to himself. _Then I can see him._ Those twenty minutes couldn't pass quickly enough.

\- - - - - 

"Hello, Mr. Armitage," Dean said warmly, entering the private room where Richard was resting. "Would you like some music today?"

Richard opened his eyes. That was not the voice he expected to hear. "You are not Mr. Turner," he said, starting to sit up in a way that demanded he would have none of this until he saw his usual massage therapist.

"Aidan will be with you soon," Dean assured him. "He was hoping I could begin your treatment today, if that's not an inconvenience. I could get you a bottled water and put on some music, if you like." The blond was more than a little perturbed that Aidan hadn't come in to deal with Richard, whose intense blue eyes made Dean more than a little nervous. 

Richard was not amused to be informed as such. He always booked Aidan specifically, and it had never been a problem before. So why he suddenly was not here on time confused him. "I will wait," he said. "Is he still busy with another customer?" Come to think of it, he had not seen this man before. "You are new, aren't you?"

Dean nodded. It was only his second week with the company. Prior to that, he'd been working as a photographer at a newspaper, but had lost his job due to downsizing. He'd gotten certified as a masseur shortly after he finished university, but since then he hadn't practiced—except on the occasional bedroom partner.

"I understand," Dean responded immediately. "It's very disappointing when you want something but get offered something else instead. Aidan's just finishing up with another customer. I'll go see if I can't hurry him along." Dean started for the door. 

Richard chose to lie back down and close his eyes instead of respond, but he was decidedly uncomfortable. Over the past half a year, Aidan had not missed a single appointment. And now suddenly someone else took over from him without further mention. When Dean reached the door, Richard said, "Ten minutes. If he can't make it in ten, I will come back another time."

Dean had always been good at reading people. He had heard some scuttlebutt from Adam, who had a very hard time keeping secrets, that Aidan liked one of their repeat clients more than a little. Could this be the guy Adam was talking about? If so, why was Aidan avoiding him? It seemed obvious, at least to Dean, that Mr. Armitage only had eyes for Aidan.

Dean lit a few candles around the table and pushed a CD into the player. Light classical music began playing. Without another word, he slipped out of the room and into the break room, where he found Aidan coolly sipping a soda.

"Adam said you were here," Dean sat down across from him. "I really think you need to get down to room three right away. "Mr. Armitage is really anxious to see you, Aidan."

"Oh, you think so, do you?" Aidan smiled mysteriously. "And how exactly did you deduce this?"

Dean sat back and crossed his arms. "He said if you didn't show up in ten minutes, he was leaving. He also seemed terribly disappointed when I showed up. He's the one, right? The one you like?"

Aidan chewed nervously on a cuticle. "We aren't allowed to date clients," he said, evasively. "But I suppose I like him well enough."

In room three, Richard tried to quiet his conflicting thoughts. Tuesday nights were for relaxation. It was the night that he spent all of his other nights looking forward to. Part of it was the relief of tension, yes, but part of it had everything to do with seeing Aidan again. Not that they generally exchanged a lot of words. Aidan was one of those few people he was comfortable not feeling the need to speak to kill the silence around. At the same time, Richard wasn't good at coping with change—especially change when it had to do with things he anticipated, and was not getting. Like Aidan's firm hands unwinding his shoulders from the tensions of his job. He shifted on the massage table uneasily and waited for someone to come in.

The door opened moments later. "Mr. Armitage," Dean said firmly, "I've brought Aidan with me. He apologizes for his lateness," he cut his eyes at Aidan meaningfully, "and, to compensate, he's going to tack the ten minutes he made you wait onto the end of your treatment. I hope that's amenable to you." Dean patted Richard's forearm as he passed by. "It was nice to have met you." 

He vanished as quickly as he'd come.

Richard could smell Aidan before he saw him. Always a waft of patchouli preceded him. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Armitage," Aidan knelt so that he could meet Richard's eyes and still allow the client his comfort. "My dinner break went a little long. It won't happen again. Now," he stood up, clasping his hands together in front of him, "let's get started, shall we?"

"How is your new colleague?" Richard mused in a minor bout of payback. "Dean, that's his name, right? Is he any good?" He leaned his forehead on his hands and closed his eyes in waiting for Aidan to commence on his back. He could already feel the warmth of his palms against sore muscles. Aidan had surprisingly warm hands. 

Oh, Richard didn't have the ability to keep a charade up for long. He smiled, unseen by Aidan. "I'm glad you're here. Could you start with my neck first? It's been stiff for a few days."

Aidan reached for the unscented massage oil—Richard's favorite—and coated his hands liberally, eyes all the while admiring the perfect expanse of Richard's back and over the swell of his ass, tastefully covered by a sheet.

"Oh, Dean's good. Of course. He wouldn't have been hired here if he weren't good. But I'm better," he added, slowly working Richard's neck. Whatever Richard did for a living must have involved sitting at a desk. He carried a lot of tension in his neck and shoulders. "That, and I know exactly what you need and where you need it."

At the expert touch, Richard forgot all about Aidan's unfamiliar tardiness. He melted into the feeling of muscles unwinding and sighed whenever Aidan made him feel especially good. From his neck, his hands teased with a firm pressure to his shoulders. Richard absently wondered if Aidan's hands felt like that on everyone.

He could live with that, as long as he got to have him on Tuesdays.

"And where do I need it?" he asked with a deep voice that groaned when Aidan reached a knot. "Aside from my neck, I've been feeling stiff in other places."

"Well, _here,_ for starters," Aidan moved to a spot on the inside of Richard's right shoulder blade where he knew he was guaranteed to find tension. "I don't know what you do all week long, Mr. Armitage, but it certainly ties you in knots."

Aidan's warm hands slowly, and with increasing pressure, worked warming gel into the afflicted area, soothing away the knot of muscle he found there. A similar spot existed on the left side. In minutes, he had worked the tightness from that region as well and steadily moved downwards to the lower back. "What _do_ you do for a living?"

The lower his hands moved, the more a tingle started running down Richard spine. It was a sensation he particularly liked, but also one he had to suppress for various reasons.

"Business," he spoke. "I work for companies when they require a manager to manage managers. I spend too many hours sitting," he admitted. "Plane rides, office hours. You always know how to fix me up for another week." Richard bit the inside of his cheek to prevent a moan when Aidan's fingertips pushed away the tension a little above the end of his spine.

"It's a shame you're only able to make it in once a week. The tension," Aidan worked his thumb deftly a knot above Richard's left ass cheek, "it builds. Seems you could benefit from something like this... every night." 

Those last two words were whispered in Richard's ear. 

The words and their implications shot straight to Richard's groin. He was glad he was lying down, or his embarrassment would be too plain. "I thought you only worked part-time," his words came out half-grunted, as Aidan chose that moment to find one of his weaker spots.

"Here I do, yes," Aidan skirted around Richard's buttocks—which were off limits, according to the spa's employee handbook—and set to work on his thighs, "but I could be convinced to do in-home visits, especially if you have a really rough day. I would give you my number...if you think that's something you might want to pursue."

"I'm afraid I wouldn't be treating you very professionally if I asked you to do that," Richard chuckled. He loved that when they did talk, it was always innuendo. Of course, that was partly why it was Aidan he requested and why he would take nobody else. Toying with the idea that this between them was special was very welcome. They had been doing this for months. Many a time had Richard wondered what it would be like to push this man in his white clothes and bare feet against the wall and have him. They would never do anything like that, naturally. If Aidan even consented, it would cost him his job. "Have you done that before? Home visits?"

"No," Aidan deftly worked the muscles in Richard's perfect thighs. "But I never felt like making an exception before. You are a very _critical_ case, Mr. Armitage," he chuckled, thumbs coming within millimeters of Richard's ass.

Aidan loved this, loved the touching, emphasized by carefully chosen words. Loved feeling this powerful man come undone beneath him. Battling, always battling with his conscience. He couldn't wait for the day Richard lost his shit and fucked him properly.  
"In fact, you are in such desperate need of my services," Aidan leaned over and murmured in his ear, "I could build a franchise around servicing just _you,_ I think."

Richard bit his lip. He didn't mean to, but his shoulders pushed up and closer to the voice out of their own accord, while he shifted his hips out of discomfort. Sometimes, sometimes he truly wondered how far Aidan was going to push his talk. "A personal massage therapist," he whispered, "Oh, I'm sure I'd be able to sustain you financially, if that's what you wanted, but I'm afraid my rules would be slightly different from those that we keep to here. For one, you were late today."

"I have apologized for that, Mr. Armitage," Aidan moved one hand to the back of Richard's knee, which he knew from experience was a ticklish spot. "Would you like me to be punished?" he chuckled, stroking the spot gently for good measure. 

"No," Richard admitted, as he calmed down. He never wanted Aidan punished, even if they were crossing a new line in sex speak right now. "It just disappointed me when I thought you wouldn't be here." He added in a manner of downplaying what was happening, "You always know exactly how to find the points." Richard had to turn it down a notch or him getting hard was going to push through, and that wouldn't be good when Aidan asked him to turn around. "Tell me," he tried for small-talk, "I'm your last customer today, am I not? Any nice plans for the rest of the evening?"

"Mr. Armitage," Aidan ran a hand up the inside of Richard's thigh. "It's so sweet of you to ask. But you know darn well that servicing you is the highlight of my evening."

A smile appeared on Richard's already more relaxed face. Aidan was one of the few people who saw him when he had his guard down like this. "As is it mine," he admitted. "You have to promise me that if you ever switch jobs, you'll let me know where it is." 

He was quiet for a while as he allowed Aidan to do his job and let the massage and everything around it take its effect on him. The longer Aidan's hands were on him, the more relaxed he became. Close to Aidan finishing his back muscles, he touched a particular tense area that Richard wasn't aware he had, and the sound that wrung itself from his throat was decidedly a suppressed moan.

"Oh, Richard!" Aidan exclaimed, forgetting for the moment that calling the clients by their first names was forbidden. "Did I push too hard? Did I hurt you?"

"Mr. Turner," came the answer with a slightly breathless sound to it, albeit pleased at Aidan for once calling him _Richard_ like he had been insisting for a while now, "I think it's exactly where I want your hands right now. Please do that again."

Aidan chuckled, fear dissipating. "Very well, Mr. Armitage," he added more warming oil to the spot. "I'll give it a good going over. You let me know if it gets to be too much for you to bear."

He loved the sounds Richard was making, and loved that he was the cause.

And Richard, Richard didn't complain—though he reprimanded himself for exploiting Aidan by stimulating and working on what was clearly a spot with an unexpected erogenous side to it. "Oh, that's good," he groaned. "Just a little—oh. Good, very good."

It was a done deal. He needed a cold shower.

"Where did you learn all of this?"

"Well," Aidan told him, "I suppose protocol dictates I should tell you that I was born with good hands. But something tells me you're a man who respects the truth." Aidan worked his thumb in circles over the tight knot. "I took a year's worth of classes and paid my dues at a larger, seedier, operation," he confessed. "I like it here at Elysium much, much better."

"Seedier?" The word was coarse, for that word alone drafted up the image of Aidan servicing old dirtbags, being forced to, by contract, perform all sorts of treatments that Richard didn't want to envision performed on anyone else. He couldn't stop the shudder when Aidan pressed the spot again and knew he needed to tell him to stop this soon. He would.

"It wasn't this nice," Aidan stressed, "or clean. They weren't quite as selective about their clientele." He watched as Richard adjusted his hips for the umpteenth time. "Mr. Armitage," he told him, "it's not unusual for clients, especially men, to become," he cleared his throat, " _aroused_ during a massage. You don't have to be ashamed."

It drew a quiet, awkward chuckle from his client. "That's easy for you to say, you're not lying face down on an unforgiving table." As comfortable as the massage table was, there wasn't room for expansion. He tried to find a less obstructing way to lie, but there was also the fact that he didn't want to somehow push Aidan away—erections happened, he supposed, but he found it highly unfitting and unprofessional to have one in a massage parlor, opposite the man he’d had trouble getting out of his mind for some months now—that made it uneasy for Richard.

One press against his weak spot had him biting his lip. He needed to remember that one. "Do you have it happen a lot?" Richard wondered. "What do you usually do when this happens? Should we wait? Oh, I'm terribly sorry about this."

"We could wait, if you wanted," Aidan told him, "but that would probably make it worse instead of better." Aidan knelt before Richard and looked him in the eye, choosing his next words with care. "If you like, I could take care of it for you, Mr. Armitage."

Richard looked like a deer caught in headlights. He wanted to—of course he did, his traitorous body supplied. Already his mind was conjuring up the image, which naturally only made it worse. "Isn't that against regulations?" he almost stammered.

"Understand this," Aidan stayed crouched and looking intently at Richard, "I have never done it for a customer at Elysium, but for _you_ I'd make an exception, Mr. Armitage. You're my favorite client." A stray hair had fallen away from Richard's normally perfect coif, and Aidan gently repositioned it with careful fingers. "Does that upset you?"

Those words spurned Richard's arousal to further heights, and for a moment he didn't know what to say. "...No, I don't think it does," he said at last. "You are serious, aren't you?"

They had done this so often, this massage, that Richard knew they had reached the end of the back massage. He turned over and draped the towel over his front for modesty, but the tent was obvious. "After you finish the treatment?" Richard asked, both intimidated and eager.

Aidan had the decency to blush, though it was difficult not to stare at Richard's arousal. Unconsciously, he licked his lips and got back to work, reapplying warm oil to his hands and working up slowly from Richard's feet. 

"If it gets to be too much, let me know," Aidan advised. "I can work with your needs, Mr. Armitage."

Richard didn't know where to look, so he closed his eyes and nodded. That had the effect of every touch being sensitized. They were crossing boundaries, tonight. Things were about to change. His breath hitched this time and the closer Aidan got to the center of his focus, the harder it became to control that which refused to be controlled. Finally it overtook Richard and he nodded quickly. "Then I need it."

"Mmhmm," Aidan murmured, deserting Richard's feet and walking around the side of the table, trailing a hand up the inside of Richard's thigh as he did so. He leaned over and whispered in Richard's ear. "You certainly do, Mr. Armitage." 

Aidan walked to the CD player and, ever so slightly, turned up the volume on the music; turning back to the table he asked, "Towel or no towel?"

He wanted to see what lay beneath the thick, white cloth.

But Richard opted for the towel. Brimming with expectation, his eyes followed Aidan and his hips pushed up to meet with his hands. Uncharted, that was what this was, but there was no place for self-consciousness within Richard, not when Aidan had offered this himself, without Richard's specific request. "You are amazing," he spoke quietly.

Disappointment flooded Aidan, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he lifted the corner of the towel and his right hand, already well oiled, slipped beneath it, fingers curling expertly around Richard's testicles. They had the perfect heft and were just slightly cooler than the rest of Richard's body. They wouldn't be cool for long, Aidan thought to himself. All the while, his eyes never left Richard's face.

The surrender was as surprising to him as it was to Richard. Riddled as he had been with doubts about whether to cross this chasm and allow Aidan something he had only dreamed about—what with the spa's strict policy of _no happy endings allowed_ —and about how this would change them, when Aidan finally properly touched him, Richard's hips automatically moved up to meet the touch, and there was no more point pretending to be morally challenged about this. All Richard hoped was that the first time someone walked in wouldn't be today when he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shivered.

"That's—that's really nice," sounded his deep voice.

Richard's wrecked look and his velvety baritone voice went straight to Aidan's own dick. He wondered if, maybe, Richard might want him to have a happy ending as well. "The door's locked, Mr. Armitage," he told Richard, to ease his mind. "There's nothing to fear." He brought his left hand, slick with oil, around to grasp Richard's cock. Both of them gasped when he did. "Goodness, Aidan remarked, "it feels lovely. I wish you'd let me take a look."

The perfect white towel was absently removed as Richard tugged it away. There was nothing left for him to make it look innocent—Richard's cock stood tall and proud, slick with oil like the rest of his body, and beads of perspiration clung to his lips. While he wondered if Aidan's interest in seeing him fully was part of the playful demeanor he always carried around him or whether it was genuine, he didn't know, but Richard could fool himself well enough to think it was not a mere courtesy.

"Oh," he breathed, "you continue to surprise me. I'm afraid you're going to make it hard for me to be still."

Lying stretched flat on a massage table made Richard feel vulnerable, exposed. He longed to have his mouth on something or if not that, then his hands. To be able to do nothing, touch nothing, as he took what was given to him, it was maddening. More than once his hand shot out to reach for Aidan, only to pull back at the last second.

"Richard," Aidan used Richard's first name to gain his undivided attention, "you can touch me too, if you like." He didn't remove his hands from Richard's cock and balls, but stepped a few inches closer to the massage table, so that his hips, arms and ass were well within reach of Richard's right hand. 

Richard's pupils were huge, enveloping his irises. "If you wanted to close your eyes—if that would make you less nervous—you can," Aidan told him. "Do whatever makes you comfortable. This is _your_ time."


	2. House Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard is in desperate need of a house call. Aidan obliges.

Never before had Richard heard of any form of happy ending being a mutual deal, but Aidan managed to make it sound as such. He grasped Aidan's arm, never strongly enough to pull him away, but enough to touch skin. "I—" he broke off his words. "What do _you_ want?" Because it wasn't just about him. If Aidan offered, if Aidan wanted to see him fully, if he even offered Richard his touch, then they were well past professional conduct.

Aidan chuckled. "I want you to explode, Richard," he whispered, increasing the pressure on Richard's dick. "I want you to come undone, right here on this table, by my hands. And I want you to make a new appointment for next week and do it again...and again...and again." Aidan smiled, teeth gleaming in the candlelight. "You're beautiful like this."

It was everything Richard could do not to drag him down and kiss him wholly right then and there. He nodded frantically, closed his eyes while his hand clenched and unclenched against Aidan's arm, and let Aidan's experienced hands—which knew nearly every one of his soft spots and were now expanding that list—do their work. The table creaked ever so lightly under him. Within minutes, he started biting on his lip, whimpers pushing themselves past them whenever they could, and his body writhed while Richard approached that point of crashing with dazzling speed.

Aidan released Richard's balls and moved his right hand—his dominant hand—to Richard's cock instead. With his left hand, he dislodged the hand on his arm and moved it to his own hip. "Here," he directed Richard. "Touch me here, please." 

Aidan was struggling to keep his eyes off Richard's face and especially his mouth, which he was dying to claim with his own. But that...well, that would definitely be crossing the line. Instead, he slid his left hand up Richard's taut abs and chest, cupping his face with that hand once it came to rest. "I want to just jump on you," he confessed to Richard. "You're the handsomest man I've ever met, Richard. Just looking at you is torture. Touching is much, much worse."

Richard's eyes shot open. His cock thrust up into Aidan's hand while his own hand cupped Aidan’s hip bone. His eyes could see that Aidan was undeniably hard for him. "Do you mean that?" Richard asked, nearly done for. "Because I promise you, if you say yes, I will wait for you until your shift ends and you m—ah!" Aidan had to by now have guessed the truth because of Richard's insistence to have only Aidan and nobody else. He had been having a thing for him for months. 

He tried to wait for the answer, but he couldn't. Aidan's hands wrapped around his slicked skin made the most obscene noises and Richard's toes curled. Trying to be as quiet as he could about it, Richard was still considerably vocal when he came and painted the other's hand with his come. He writhed and pressed back onto the table, his head fallen back in bliss.

Aidan milked Richard through his orgasm, soothing his chest with the other hand until Richard was completely spent. He proudly surveyed his handiwork, picking up the discarded towel to wipe his own hands and clean Richard off.

"You shouldn't say such things," Aidan leaned over, pushing misplaced hair away from Richard's sweat-slick forehead, "or I'll end my shift immediately—call off sick. Tell me," Aidan knelt by the head end of the table, "is there someone at home? A wife? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?"

"Nobody," Richard said with a voice still laced with lust. "And I _would_ say those things. When does your shift end? I'll wait, or if it's still a long time or you don't want your colleagues to know, I'll come back." His head rolled to the side and smiled at him, spent. "You are really something."

Aidan swallowed audibly. "What are you asking? I—I mean, you barely know me, Mr. Armitage." His eyes were huge.

Gone was the earlier cockiness that had Richard convinced Aidan wanted him as badly as he wanted him. Richard shakily sat up and dangled his legs off, sitting in a way in which they could see each other better. "I don't know," said he. "I like your company. Maybe when I get to know you better, I might think better about that, or maybe you will, but I want to try it. I want to take that chance. Does that bother you?" Richard looked at him with worried eyes.

"Are you asking me...on a date?" Aidan smiled. "Because, if you are, if by _getting to know me better_ you mean more than just physically...then, yes. Yes, I'd like that very much."

"Well, you were also talking about wanting to jump me," Richard rubbed his nose out of nervousness. "But I'm willing to be patient about that if you want me to be. Yes, I guess I am asking you on a date." His smile was growing into a proper one. "You had to have had an inkling that I wanted you. Not, I mean, that that's the only reason I asked after you. You're really very good with your hands."

"I guess that was the heat of passion talking," Aidan admitted. "I'd love to spend time with you, Mr. Ar...Richard," he smiled, handing the older man his trousers and underwear. "And maybe...to have you return the favor." He blushed. 

Richard didn't get dressed yet. He still needed a good shower to clean up after what they had just done. That Aidan had cleaned off his stomach still left the rest of Richard's skin shining with a mix of oil and sweat. "Gladly," he said. "Do you—do you want me to wait for you today? Or is that too soon?"

This man had just jerked him off in a massage salon, so why did Richard feel the need to be absolutely sure he wasn't pushing him into anything?

"I've got three more hours to go on my shift," Aidan pouted. "And by that time you'll surely want to be in bed. You seem like the kind of man who has to get up early for work on week days. Maybe we could wait until the weekend?" he asked hopefully. "When you've got a bigger block of time. Er, not that I want to monopolize it. But I rather hope you might want me to." 

He noticed Richard wasn't moving to put his clothing on. "We have a hot tub and shower down the hall," he told Richard, handing him a white robe. "Would you like to go use them?"

Richard inclined his head. He was torn between all sorts of emotions, but a giddiness was among the more prominent ones. "I can wait until the weekend." Though he wouldn't like to. Richard stumbled over the thing he wanted to ask. "So," he started, "can I get your phone number at the desk, or will you join me in the tub?"

"I'll give you my number," Aidan withdrew a business card for the spa from a nearby shelf, and wrote his cell phone number on the back in ink. "I can't join you back there, Richard. Not on company grounds," he added, handing the card to Richard. "It's not...," he paused, rethinking his response. "I could lose my job, you see. I really like you. And if I have to wait until next Tuesday to see you, so be it."

"Keep some time in the weekend free for me," Richard refused to see him on Tuesday and no sooner. He picked a card too and took Aidan's pen to write his own number down. "That's mine. Whenever you want, all right? If I'm busy, I will always call you back when I'm not." He took a chance and kissed Aidan lightly on the cheek, making sure he wasn't breaching any more regulations than they already had and smiled. "I'll call you, then."

"No! No...wait," Aidan insisted, grabbing Richard's forearm and pulling him back into his embrace, slotting his lips over the taller man's, kissing him properly. 

"I couldn't bear the wait," he confessed, blushing.

Richard cupped his cheeks and kissed him again. When he pulled back, he was less ready to leave than he had been before. "God, you're even better than I imagined," he admitted. Richard gestured over his shoulder. "I should really..."

The problem was that he didn't want to. He knew his time was up and soon Aidan would be expected to receive his next customer, one who had no idea what had just happened on that same table. So he forced himself to start walking back and twirling the card over between his fingers. "This weekend," he called. "Let me know when exactly."

"You _imagined_ me?" Aidan's grin was so wide it nearly split his face in two. 

It was the hardest thing in the world, walking to and out that door. "Make your appointment like normal, with Patrice out front," Aidan advised. "I will call you, Richard," he promised, heart pounding as he raised a hand in parting.

Richard did as he was told. He spent slightly too long in the hot tub, zoning out and letting his thoughts go back to that room. He had to force down the stupid smile that often appeared on his face without him noticing it when he finally made it to the desk for next Tuesday's appointment.

Patrice felt the need to apologize for Aidan's lateness, but Richard brushed that aside. He smiled when he left the building.

\- - - - -

The following morning, life was hectic. Everything at work seemed like it went wrong and as such, Richard could not send a text until early in the evening. "Hey," it said, "I'll be honest, my coworkers think something's up because I’m smiling so much."

"You have a beautiful smile," Aidan sent back. "You should smile more often. I think I could help make that happen...Saturday night?"

"Evening?" Richard leaned back into his office chair and looked up at the ceiling with a smile. Aidan liked his smile. "I'd like to take you for dinner. What kinds of food do you like?" He added, "Ps. You should look in the mirror more often, yours is even better."

"I have had a perma-grin since last night too," Aidan sent back. "Grinning like a psycho, in fact. I'm free after four Saturday. Where do we meet?"

Richard handed him the address of one of the most expensive restaurants in town. "Is this close?" he wondered. "I have no idea where you live. I'm close to the city, by the way. You'll see."

"I'm right downtown," Aidan sent back. "Wow, that's a very nice place, Richard. And it's only a few blocks from my apartment. Are you sure you want to go there?"

"If you're comfortable with it." Richard couldn't wait to see Aidan again. He looked out over the skyline of the city and allowed his imagination to take him to Saturday already, thinking about how Aidan would look in something else than the white clothes that his job prescribed. "Hope you didn't get into trouble."

"No one knows," Aidan texted back. "They suspect of course, as it's hard for me not to smile when I think about it. And I did make the mistake of telling my best friend. But he's harder to crack than the Tower of London."

Aidan considered a moment before hitting send, then added, "A dark suit...is that the right thing to wear on Saturday?"

"I'd rather see you wear something casual," Richard texted back. He wanted to get to know him. Richard was getting less jittery about calling him but he continued the messages. "Your friend, does he work there?"

"Yes, you met Dean," Aidan texted back. "The blond. We've been friends for ten years or so. We had our first massage classes together. The restaurant you chose...I should dress up, though, right?"

Richard rather preferred not to linger on dinner choices. "Just something nice you can wear outside the restaurant as well," he messaged. It was still a few more days until Saturday, far too long for his liking. "If you were working and you had a spot in your agenda..."

"Did I mention," Aidan keyed with a smile, "I am willing to make house calls. I mean, if it's a dire emergency. Are you having an emergency, Mr. Armitage? Something stiff you need me to...rub out?"

"Terribly stiff." Well, Richard did have something stiff _now_. "It's rather obstructing. Out of curiosity, how fast can you make it?" He sent Aidan his address afterwards, and bit his thumb as he awaited the reply.

Aidan let out a half gasp, half laugh. He was going to see Richard _tonight._

"I can be there in 20," he sent back. "Normally I'd recommend icing the afflicted area, but I'd be disappointed if it went away." He squirmed in his seat _Because if you don't fuck me, I think I might die..._ He chuckled and hit send.

Richard's mouth went dry. "Make it thirty, leaving the office right now," he returned, veered up from his seat and collected his things. As he was one of the few people left, most of those remaining few looked at him as he left but thought nothing of it. The cab was too slow for his liking and he realized with horror that he had nothing at home to eat or drink. There was no time though. When he got home, he hopped into the shower immediately, took a meager three minutes to freshen up and got into less confining clothes than his business suit right on time for the doorbell.

"Just a minute!" Richard called out. He ran a brush through his hair, frowned at the too tidy look and tousled it, before he made it to the front door and opened it, mildly out of breath but trying to be suave. "Hello."

Aidan smiled at him broadly from the porch, looking much swarthier than when Richard normally saw him. Gone were the salon whites, replaced by a pair of black jeans and a wine red sweater. A day's growth of stubble graced his chin. "Hi," Aidan greeted him. "You have a beautiful home, Richard."

 _You are much more beautiful_. Though replying with those words was too hackneyed for Richard. "Come on in," he stepped aside. "You're fast." He closed the door behind him and allowed Aidan to go wherever he wanted, though the idea that he was here, in his house, made his arousal—partially hidden under a long black hooded sweater—only worse.

"You said it was an emergency," Aidan reminded him. "You do look a bit flushed. Or maybe it's the black clothing. You look very striking in black, do you know that?" Aidan paused in front of him, dark eyes drinking Richard in. "What a handsome man you are, Mr. Armitage."

Aidan unconsciously extended a hand to touch Richard's face, then paused mid-gesture.

It took only a short pause before Richard met him halfway and moved further until he was kissing him. "It is an emergency," he breathed before his lips found Aidan's again and his body pushed up against his when the kiss met with no resistance. His affliction was immediately apparent. "I don't know what to do about it. You smell so good." With the spa's prominent scents, it was nice to finally be able to take in Aidan's undiluted own scent and he found that he liked it.

It dawned on him that they were still standing in the hallway.

Aidan drew away, panting. "I can't stop thinking about you," he confessed. "It's crazy, right? We hardly know one another, but I am so _drawn_ to you."

"We can get to know each other," Richard liked nothing more than that. "I feel it too. Imagine how many times I managed to keep myself in check while on that table. I can't anymore, though. I want you."

For his usually reserved personality, the spontaneity of the situation surprised Richard more than it probably did Aidan. "I wasn't expecting company. I can order us some food later, if you want," he offered with his eyes on Aidan's mouth, "God, I really want to kiss you again."

Aidan nodded. "Can we sit down—lie down—somewhere?" he asked, breathless and dick hard as a diamond in his jeans. "M'not hungry. Not for food anyway," he licked his lips teasingly.

Richard's mouth was on his at the invitation. 

"Up, bedroom," was all Richard knew how to say, and part of him still hoped that mentioning his bedroom wasn't going to pull Aidan out of the wonderful daydream that he felt he was having. He took his chance at lifting Aidan up to have him wrap his arms and legs around his waist and carried him up the first few steps. When the other man's erection made itself known against Richard's stomach, he proceeded faster up the remaining steps, awkwardly fumbled the door open and put Aidan down in front of the king bed, Richard's bedroom a spacious room decorated in stylish grays. "Is this good?"

Aidan looked about, dazed but thrilled. "It's exactly how I pictured it, Richard." His own bedroom was a mess, clothing scattered everywhere. He realized he would probably be ashamed to have Richard over. The bedspread alone must have been worth more than all Aidan's furniture combined. "You have such lovely things."

 _I am so out of my league,_ he worried his bottom lip with his teeth, suddenly very self-conscious.

The look was unfortunately not missed. Richard tipped his chin up to look at him. "There's something wrong, isn't there?" he asked. "We don't have to do this if it's too fast."

"No, no!" Aidan's eyes were huge. "It's not you. It—it's me. Are you sure you want this? Want _me?_ " he stressed. "You are obviously a man of means. And, well, I'm not," Aidan admitted, softly. "Surely you could find someone more...fitting."

Richard took a deep breath. Right, he had money. "If that gave me happiness, I would not have asked you over," he said quietly. "I have a housekeeper who makes my bed and hardly anything in the fridge, and I hope you're not the kind of person who finds that attractive, because I like you for who you are and how you make me feel, and not for whatever background you might have."

"I find _you_ attractive," Aidan set him straight quickly. "You're a beautiful man, Richard, but you also seem so lonely. And that..." he wrapped his arms around Richard's waist, "well that's just not acceptable to me. You should never have to be alone." He kissed up along the underside of Richard's jaw.

Richard smiled as he closed his eyes, thankful for that. The number of people who had wanted him only because of his wealth had made him weary in looking for love. Aidan didn't know half of what he was getting himself into, and for that Richard was genuinely glad. He pushed down his post-shower slacks and reached to dim the lights before his hands started decently committing all of Aidan to memory. "You're amazing, you know that, right?" he whispered.

"I'm just...me," Aidan said, weakly, as Richard's strong hands made themselves acquainted with his most intimate places. "I'm so glad you came into my salon, Richard. Into my life," he added. "God, I _want_ you."

They had hardly talked. There had been no date, no dinner to get acquainted, and yet here they were without either of them wanting to slow down and go through those steps first. 

Richard started working on removing Aidan's sweater before he nudged him back and allowed him to fall onto the primly made bed, drawing his own shirt up over his head. Aidan had seen all of him already, but Richard himself still marveled in both of them wanting the same thing, this time around. Or maybe they had wanted the same thing all along; they were finally free to act upon it. And Aidan telling him he wanted him certainly made Richard's heart beat faster.

As he crawled on top of him and between Aidan's legs, his lips started to wander from his neck to his shoulders and then his chest. Aidan was addictive. Every taste of him begged for more. Richard didn't even notice where he was headed until his lips stopped above the waistband.

Aidan, head thrown back in ecstasy, actually whimpered when Richard stopped his attentions. "You don't have to stop," he whispered. "I—I want you to keep going, love. It feels incredible. Do whatever you want with me. To me," he caressed Richard's soft hair. "I've fantasized about doing this with you for a long time."

At those words, Richard unbuttoned the jeans and tugged them as low as he could. He had to wait for Aidan to help by lifting his hips before he could fully push them off, and when Aidan did so, Richard paused to consider the gravity of this moment, the beauty of it. He took a deep breath from where his forehead was leaning against the man's lower abdomen and opened his eyes. Before him, too close to be in focus but beautiful nonetheless, beckoned Aidan's cock. Richard nudged it once, tried a lick, and relished in the obscenity when he wrapped his lips fully around the shaft.

"Oh, _god,_ " Aidan moaned hoarsely, left hand fisting the bed spread and his right gently but firmly caressing Richard's jaw line. "So good, Richard. I—I should be servicing you," he observed.

"It's not servicing though," Richard's voice hummed around his cock. This was all without expecting anything in return. And oh, Richard loved what he was doing to the man. He made it his goal to drive him almost crazy, but never so much that he climaxed.  
Come to think of it, he had no idea how far Aidan was willing to take this.

Aidan was coming undone far too easily—embarrassingly so. His fantasy of marathon sex with Richard was going to be spoiled by his coming as quickly as a high schooler on his first date. "Richard," he breathed, hips stuttering madly "going to come too soon if you keep that up."

At those words Richard unlatched himself with an audible plop. "I'm sorry." His grin said otherwise. "You make it so easy to forget." Hoisting himself up, he kissed Aidan with the man's taste still on his tongue before rolling to his side and all but offering himself as he lay onto his back.

"Mmm," Aidan's eyes moved with possessiveness over Richard's body, from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, before Aidan deftly straddled him. "I've wanted to just climb on top of you like this for so long," he admitted, grinding his hips down against Richard's still clothed crotch. "Right on the table at Elysium. If only you knew how I fantasized about it. I nearly did it on Tuesday."

"And I wished you had. These bedroom walls are soundproof though, you might like to know." If they had done this on Tuesday, Richard was afraid they would have been found out. His lips were beginning to taste salty—they would definitely need a shower after this. "What else have you thought about? I'm here now."

Above him, Aidan turned a decided shade of pink. "I—I'm not sure I should say..."

Hands pulled him into a kiss, lips mashing together and Richard's hips undulating up. It was the first time he saw Aidan truly flustered, and it shook him to his core. "Please do."

"Oh, man," Aidan looked away, dragging a hand through his own hair, clearly embarrassed. "I fantasize about your mouth. On me. _Everywhere._ " Said like that there was no confusion about where he really meant. "And us fucking. You, fucking me. Hard. You like it that way, don't you? Rough, but not dangerous?" Aidan cocked his head to the side, assessing Richard's reaction.

Richard lay watching him with an open mouth. All of a sudden, he dislodged Aidan, rolled on top of him instead and whispered in his ear, right before offering him the space to do so, "If you're sure, then turn around on your knees." His hunger was growing into consuming fire.

The desire in Richard's blue eyes was palpable. Aidan complied, readily, feeling terribly exposed and vulnerable for all of five seconds, until Richard latched onto his hips with both hands and hot breath ghosted over his ass. Aidan unconsciously let out a groan.

As he looked at the man so willing and open before him, Richard felt his heart squeeze wonderfully. "You are the most beautiful man," he whispered, then kissed his left cheek. His lips led a trail up to his lower back, then to his right side, before venturing to that most secret of places. It was insane, to be doing things this intimate on their first time. Richard did not care. His tongue traced a broad circle that grew smaller and smaller, until a lap finally breached the invisible barrier and Richard started in earnest. His tongue pushed and coaxed, slipped lower to Aidan's balls to tease, and finally, with a grunt and a tightening of fingers at Aidan's hips, moved in.

By this time, Aidan's legs were shaking so hard they could barely support him. When Richard's brazen tongue finally breached him, Aidan cried out in pleasure. His cock was dripping its approval all over Richard's expensive bed spread, while his hands clutched it so he could ground himself.

"Want you, Richard," Aidan murmured. "God, I want you." Aidan's body was covered with a sheen of perspiration. He'd never been this out of control in Richard's presence. He could come, like this, from Richard's tongue-fucking alone.

Richard gasped and slid the first finger home. Afraid that Aidan wouldn't last long enough to make it past being stretched open, he pressed kisses to his lower back and his hips while starting to move. It was supposed to be relished for the beauty of it, but all Richard could pay attention to was Aidan's breathing, making sure never to make him come. Soon he yearned to add a second finger, and over Aidan's back, Richard fumbled with the drawer next to the pillow to reach for the lube and a condom. He couldn't wait to have this man fitted around him. "How are you feeling?" he queried at the second insertion. 

Aidan let out the slightest of whimpers, body taut as the string on a harp. "I am so turned on right now," he moaned, "I want to see you while you're fucking me. Your eyes, _god,_ your eyes," he rocked against Richard's inserted fingers, longing for more. "Need you in me," he keened. "P-please."

"Turn around for me then," panted Richard hotly. He extracted the fingers and waited for Aidan to turn around and lie back before kissing him stupid. Richard's body was quick to cover the other and push his hips down, but he lost a bit of momentum at the condom, which refused to slip on easily because of trembling hands. "Sorry," he gasped when he was finally aligned, "if it's too much, please let me know."

"It won't be," Aidan assured him, spreading his legs willingly. "You can't imagine how eager I am to do this...have you inside me." Aidan knew he must look a mess—curly hair every which way, body shining with sweat and eyes simply eating Richard up as he watched him get himself ready for him. "Touching you, lying on that table," Aidan put a steadying hand on Richard's chest, "wishing you could touch me in return. It was torture." 

"You should have let me know." To think that all those times Aidan had wanted this too, they could have been doing this much sooner. Aidan was a sight to behold, so willing to have him. Richard gently pushed in. It took all of his reserve not to claim at once what was offered, more so when his cock was assaulted from all sides by the deliciously hot tightness.

"I never do this on a first date," he whispered into Aidan's ear. "Look at what you're making me do. You feel incredible, Aid." Richard too flushed at the nickname. He pushed home carefully and waited there, his hands smoothing curls out of Aidan's face.

"Me either," Aidan practically purred as the head of Richard's cock scraped his prostate and his toes curled. "I-I haven't been with anyone in awhile," he wrapped his legs around Richard's waist, pulling him closer, deeper. "Yessss," he murmured into the older man's neck. "Right _there._ "

Aidan accepted Richard surprisingly easily, which left Richard with the option very early on to not take it that slow. Not that he didn't want slow—Richard would love to do this again, very soon, and truly take his time for this man—but he wasn't patient enough for it right now. All he wanted was more. He tried his best to hit Aidan in that spot again once, twice, before lifting his legs further up by the knees and wrapping them over his shoulders. "Hold onto something."

Richard's warning, in that incredibly deep, commanding voice, ratcheted Aidan's arousal even higher. His hands quested up and behind him and found the slats of Richard's cherry wood mission headboard. He grabbed onto them, growling, "There. Now, fuck me." 

The command needn't be said twice. Richard caught Aidan's lips and shoved himself fully in, deeper than he'd been before. He only offered a moment to adjust before pulling back and setting a pace that increased until it was nearly vicious. Richard was soon running out of breath. He couldn't hold on much longer, not with how good claiming Aidan felt or how tight he continued to be. "Oh god," he panted, "I—"

"Me too! Me too!" Aidan chanted, head thrown back in pleasure as Richard steadily nailed his pleasure center with measured accuracy. The pace was urgent, demanding, primal—exactly what Aidan had hoped for when he rang Richard's doorbell. "Give it to me," he begged, "give it all!"

He dug into Richard's back with his heels, and whiteness crept over his vision as he came like gangbusters, unable to release the headboard lest Richard drive him clean through.

He hardly needed to—the added pressure was enough for Richard's hips to stutter and his breath to catch. He feebly tried his best not to stop but, try as he might, he couldn't up the pace any longer. Richard had never felt more out of practice, and never cared less about it. He groaned, dug his fingers into Aidan's hips. There would be bruises there, come morning.

And just when Richard thought he couldn't take one more thrust, he buried himself all the way in and came violently. Lips searched for skin to mar and worship while Richard tried to catch his breath.

Aidan cried out wordlessly and without embarrassment as he came. His hands, stiff and curled from grasping the bars, unclenched and moved to Richard's sweat-slick skin, caressing him as they both came down from the heights of their mutual climax. He could taste blood where he'd bitten through the inside of his lower lip in the throes of his passion.

"God," Aidan murmured, "that was... incredible."


	3. I Must Have Rubbed You The Right Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Endings for everyone!

Richard's hands moved lazily over Aidan's skin, stroking him gently. He hoisted himself up and looked down on the wonderful image of a spent Aidan—not so long ago only his massage therapist and without, he had thought, a chance of him being more—lying boneless on his bed. 

"Can I keep you?" he whispered. "You'll stay a little longer, right? You have no idea how amazing that just was. How amazing _you_ are."

"I'm not due at work until noon tomorrow," Aidan smiled sleepily, "although I imagine you have to be at yours well before that." He wanted to say something poetic about how well they seemed to fit together, as if they were made for each other, but he checked himself before the words could spill over. Instead he said, "You were incredible, Richard. So passionate. I knew you would be," he pulled him down for a languid kiss, whimpering when Richard slipped from inside him at last. 

"We're a mess," he chuckled. "I'll bet you have a really nice bathtub, don't you?"

"The best," Richard smiled, though it wasn't nearly as good as those at the spa where Aidan worked. "Give me a minute and I'll show you. My legs..." They were still unstable from their lovemaking. Aidan's praise quieted him from saying more than that. He never knew what to say, and Aidan deserved the praise much more than he did. "I can't believe you're here, you know," he said at last while he traced his fingers over Aidan's body. Where he touched him, goose bumps would invariably appear. It was lovely. "Tell me again how this happened?"

Aidan chuckled at the thought that came to his mind, and this time he didn't censor himself. "I guess," he smiled up at Richard, "I must have rubbed you the right way."

Richard laughed softly. He soon stilled in favor of a gentler air and closed his eyes next to him. All was quiet in the room except for the noise coming from outside, until, "Kiss me."

 _You don't need to ask me twice, you beautiful, beautiful man,_ Aidan thought to himself, admiring the sheen of sweat on Richard's sculpted abs, chest and arms. "How is it a man like you isn't spoken for?" Aidan had to ask, before leaning in to claim his mouth. "Are their bodies in your basement or something?"

"I don't have a basement," Richard murmured, at peace. He loved how their lips leisurely slid together, taking their time to explore for the first time. They were doing a lot of things backwards, the two of them. "I don't actually have a lot of time. I often get home at eight, or worse. I hardly go out. In fact, the spa where you work is one of the few times I do get around people that are not colleagues. It's hard to meet someone when you're in this kind of job. It's not attractive, is it, to have so little time to share?"

"If you found the right person, would you have _more_ time?" Aidan wondered, throwing his leg over Richard's. "Or are you one of those men who's married to his job?"

"I'd make more time. Part of not meeting a lot of people is all on me," Richard admitted guiltily. "But one of the perks of the work I do is that if you had time off during the day, it would be easier to make time for you. I could work at home. I'd never work during a date though. You? Do you work full-time, or are there other endeavors that demand your time?"

"I'm a grad student," Aidan told him. "I take classes Tuesdays and Thursdays, I teach Wednesday mornings, and I'm working on my thesis. So I don't really have a lot of time either. Does it make you feel better to know your tips have been funding my education? It's been a huge help, Richard," he squeezed him and kissed him on the nose. "I mean it. Thank you. I couldn't have done it without your support."

Richard chuckled to himself. "Oh man, I seriously snared a student? Please tell me you're older than twenty-one." Not, he should perhaps add, that it bothered him that much. In fact it quite had its charm, Aidan still taking classes, though it did make Richard feel slightly old in comparison. "Either way," he tugged him closer by the waist, "I'm glad my tips reached you. That's what they were supposed to do, but you never know, what with me paying at the desk. I should really add that those tips were because you're good at what you do, not because I was trying to buy your favor or something. Promise me you'll never consider them as such. So what's your major?"

" _Graduate_ student, Richard," Aidan smiled. "And a bit older than most. I'm thirty. But I'm flattered that you think I could pass for twenty-one," he purred. "I wasn't going to tell you, but since you asked. Anthropology. What can I say?" he smiled. I'm a huge fan of _Bones_."

"Hence the assumption that I have bodies in a basement." Richard leaned low to kiss Aidan wherever he could reach him. That ended up being his fingertips. "Thirty is a beautiful age. Forty-two for me, I'm afraid. I manage managers, do seminars about management, it's all about getting people to get their act together, I suppose." It sounded like such a hollow job, the way the words rang. "I never expected to get here when I was younger. I had a knack for arranging things, but I really wanted to be a pilot."

"Managing managers seems like an important job, if you're good at it. Most managers I've had in the past have been...well, they've been quite bad, in fact. The world needs more qualified ones. If you can make that happen, you are my new hero," he pushed one of his fingers gently into Richard's mouth, then another, shuddering as Richard sucked them in. 

"I took a few years off between college and grad school. I didn't have any direction for awhile...but I got myself back on track," Aidan admitted. "You realize I'm imagining you in a pilot's uniform right now, in a restroom with me at thirty thousand feet up in the air." 

Richard laughed, a deep, warm chuckle that spoke of comfort. "Immediately trying to exploit that information for your own gain, I see," he smiled. "Well, don't think I'm above picturing catching you alone in an auditorium or a lab now." He kept his eyes on Aidan while his tongue swirled around his digits, closing his lips around them once or twice.

Aidan withdrew the fingers with a slow _plop._ "Mmhm," he bit his lip, "you're getting me hot and bothered again. Of course, that doesn't take much. You only have to look at me." He snuggled up to Richard, breathing in his scent. He smelled wonderful, when his natural musk wasn't masked by massage oil and eucalyptus.

"Impossible," Richard mused. "Give me half an hour, please. In fact, how about I order in some food? Anything you like. It's not really how a first date should be going, but I can try, right?" He leaned in to kiss Aidan, feeling warm inside. "You're beautiful. And incredible. And I have no intention of letting you slip through my hands."

"Indian?" Aidan wondered. "Can we get Indian? It's my favorite," he smiled playfully, nibbling on Richard's ear.

"Tikka masala?" Richard quirked an inquisitive, amused eyebrow. He felt like he was falling hard for this man, and though he didn't want to admit it so soon, he liked that. Aidan didn't know it yet, but he was going to be kept in this bed all night.

"Mmmm, tikka masala," Aidan licked a stripe in the sensitive spot behind Richard's ear. "I need it like air. Medium spice, though, okay?"

"Hmm, get into the bath," hummed Richard. "I'll order for when we get out, all right?" He shivered under the attention and scraped his throat when, although his body was spent, it was nonetheless readily starting to respond to the touches.

"I will," Aidan reached for his hand in invitation, "if you're planning to join me. I should warn you, though...I _really_ love hot baths. You might have a hard time getting me out of there."

When Aidan's laid eyes on Richard's well-appointed bathroom, he stopped in his tracks. Sage green tiling and sparking stainless steel dazzled him, as did the assortment of scented bath products. "Rich," he smiled, "your bathroom is more lovely than the spa's." He turned, eyes huge. "Marry me?"

Richard wrapped his arms around him from behind, blissfully content. "Stick around for a few years and I just might," he quipped back. He nuzzled into Aidan's neck and sighed, "I am beginning to find I want to see you naked and either in or around me in that bath. I've got oils at your disposal."

"And you certainly spared no expense," Aidan ran his finger casually over the selection of bath products, settling on a lemon and coriander scented bubble bath. "Oh, this is nice," he raised his eyebrows. "You must like this one. Your skin smelled like it already."

He poured two generous capfuls into the running water and the intoxicating smell rose with the steam. "May I light some candles, too?" he wondered. "A bath without candles...well, it's pretty much pointless as far as I'm concerned."

"I...sorry." There were no candles there, because Richard didn't have them. "I've got some tea lights in the kitchen downstairs," he offered, "is that fine? I'll get them when I order in food, all right?" He kissed Aidan down his neck.

They behaved like they had been dating for weeks, with the only exception being Aidan not having seen his house before. "You know, I bought some of these at the spa after you used them on me. They reminded me of you."

"I will admit, I'm drawn to scents," Aidan smiled. "And I have become a bit of a gourmet over time. It would be a treat to rub you down with some of the _really_ good stuff," his eyes swept over Richard's frame. "Don't worry about the candles. I have all the ambiance I need right here, love."

Richard kissed him once more in his neck and breathed in the scent of sex, still clinging to him. He was falling hard, and they weren't even official yet. He left only shortly to order Indian, returned with tea lights despite Aidan's claim he didn't need them, and was unwilling to get out of the bath an hour later, when the doorbell rang and they were both thoroughly wrinkly and thoroughly covered in stubble rash.

He stayed awake that night for a while after Aidan fell asleep on his bed just to watch him breathe and consider himself so lucky, before succumbing at last as well.

Come the next morning, Aidan was so sore and looked so debauched that Richard nearly didn't want to let him go to work.

"Hey," Aidan said softly, rolling over into Richard's warmth. He was leaning in for a kiss when his stomach let out a growl. He chuckled. "We really should have let the take-out guy in. I'm famished. Can I make you something? I make wonderful scrambled eggs."

"I've got eggs," Richard sleepily pulled him closer. He was supposed to be heading down to the office already, but he decided he was going to take half of the day off. No appointments were scheduled and nobody would blame him. "No bread, I'm afraid. I'd rather take you out for breakfast at the lunchroom down the corner and spoil you rotten." 

Aidan's stomach gave a growl of consent and he blushed. "That works, too," he murmured sleepily into Richard's shoulder. "I like waking up next to you," he said decisively.

\- - - - - 

Tomorrow turned into the next day, and the day after that.

Aidan rarely went home, except to pick up more clothing. Eventually, after six weeks, he thought it might be time to bring up the notion of moving in all together. But he didn't think it was in his right to do it...being that it was Richard's home.

Still, Richard could sense something was wrong that evening when Aidan came home from work. He offered silent support at first—making his favorite coffee, offering a shoulder massage and peppering his neck with kisses while he was at it, but eventually Richard needed to know. "How was your day?" he whispered in his ear while he leaned his chin on his boyfriend's shoulder—they had come to the understanding about their relationship without it needing to be said—and snaked his arms around his waist.

"I had a great day," Aidan confessed. "Long, but good. I'm happy to be home." The phrase came out effortlessly, and he chuckled. "Home. I—I didn't mean it like that, Richard. I meant, happy to be here, with you. That's what I meant."

"Home." The world rolled on Richard's tongue, who tasted the sound of it and decided he liked it. A lazy smile crossed his lips as he tugged Aidan closer against his chest. "I'm happy you're home too." He didn't have to worry about double entendres but nevertheless loaded it with extra meaning. "You smell of almond oil again." Richard breathed in deeply. "There is something on your mind, isn't there?"

Aidan took a long sip, finishing up his mug of coffee, "It's nothing bad, Richard. At least, I don't think so. It's just that...well, I haven't really used my apartment in nearly a month. I'm paying rent, of course, but I've done little more than stop by to grab clothing from time to time and make sure the trash doesn't smell." He smiled gently. "I feel as if I live here now," he looked shyly up at Richard. "Am I...do you think I'm around _too much?_ Are you tired of me?"

Richard tipped his chin up gently. "Tired of you? Aid, I would never get tired of you." He had to admit, it was all going incredibly fast for them, even if he understood where Aidan was coming from. Richard sat straight and offered a bit of space between them, because it appeared they were going to have that talk already. "So," he started tentatively, "are you saying I should be over at yours more often, or are you saying you want to change ship entirely and move your belongings here?"

Aidan chose his words carefully. You made it clear when we met that you were a very private person, and that your work is very important to you. I'm also very driven. My education, the job I hope to obtain when I'm done. It's nearly in my grasp." He bit his lip and continued. "I knew I fancied you. Knew it deep in my bones, that I wanted you. And I'm overjoyed that it's turned out to be much more than simply physical. I have room for you in my life, is what I'm saying. I want to make room. Are you—do you...would you like to live together?"

Richard watched him for a long time. He grinned then, and shook his head. Fingers grasped Aidan's cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. He needn't have worried—Richard was head over heels for this man and, to his surprise, there were no alarm bells going off at such a life-altering question. "You are incredible. I love you, Aidan. Yes, of course there's space for you here. I mean, you're definitely fast about it, and I'd really appreciate it if you kept your apartment on the side for a few months, just in case, but you know I love to have you here as much as I can. Are you really sure you can get enough studying done if you move in now?"

Aidan nodded. "You know me, Richard. My thesis is nearly done. I've only got a few months of school left. I'm already applying for positions. Now, here in the city, of course," he added. "I won't be moving away from this city, as long as you're here; as long as you want me around." He stood and hugged Richard. "Are you sure? I'll help around the house, of course. I'm really quite good at cooking and gardening."

"Give me a night," Richard kissed him, "I know I'm all right with it, but just to make sure we're not rushing into anything." With the happy look he had trouble suppressing however, the outcome of the next day was going to be the same without a doubt. When they pulled apart, he let himself fall back on the couch and patted the space next to him for Aidan to sit with him. Richard closed his eyes. "So I'll finally have to start coming home at an acceptable hour," he smiled. "Ah well, it was about time that happened."

"No," Aidan took his hand, "you get home when you can. Same as me. We have jobs, we have lives. I'm not one of those demanding boyfriends who's going to monopolize your time and plan your schedule. And I certainly don't want that from you either. I do want you, Richard. As often as I can have you," he smiled. "But I like my space too. I need it. We need it."

"You don't have to demand it for me to want it though," Richard threw him a cheeky smile. "It'll be hard not to think of calling it a day when I know you're going to be home, even if you're occupied with other things." He tugged on Aidan's hand and pulled him on top of himself. "Let's have a trial run, all right? You bring your stuff over in the weekend, or whatever you think you need, and we'll see how it goes."

Aidan beamed and let his full weight relax down onto Richard. "Yes," he nodded. "But I'll warn you...I travel light, Mr. Armitage. Maybe, when I get a job that doesn't require me to wear the same thing every day, you can help me shop for clothing. You have impeccable taste."

"I have help," Richard let him in on his secret. His hands carded through the other's hair, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. He could tell him so every day and Aidan still would have no approximate clue about the extent of Richard's love for him. "You're going to be moving stuff here tomorrow already, aren't you?" He knew the man too well.

"If it doesn't freak you out," Aidan grinned impishly. "Because, I gotta tell you...your wok, it sucks. I have to bring mine over if we ever hope to have decent stir fry."

"Then we'll have two woks. I'm not getting rid of that one." Richard quirked an eyebrow to challenge Aidan. "If you've got a good set of spatulas though..."

"I have _one_ ," Aidan felt woefully inadequate at that. "But it's a very, very good spatula. When you find the right one, it's hard to imagine getting others. I'm sure you know what I mean."

Richard laughed, a throaty, whole laugh. "You're perfect, you know that? Your one spatula will be cherished, I promise. And if you've got other things, too. I don't care if you drag along your favorite pillow or anything. Just give me time to find you space for it." His home was empty enough to accommodate some of Aidan's belongings. He tugged Aidan close. "So, it's Tuesday. You know what I'm thinking?"

"I hope you're not thinking of skipping your appointment," Aidan pouted. "I need the money."

"Thinking of extending it, actually, if you think they'll allow it. Dean didn't tell anyone, did he?" The man had been giving him knowing looks a lot lately whenever Richard walked in.

"Of course not," Aidan was quick to defend his friend. "He's just really happy for me. I'd like you to meet him, officially, at some point. He's rather like a brother to me. And as far as extending the appointment, that shouldn't be a problem. You're my last of the evening on purpose, you know," he smiled. "We can stay as late as you like. Did you want to try something different tonight?"

"Locking the doors," Richard eyed his boyfriend knowingly. "They're fairly soundproof, aren't those rooms? And you can introduce me tonight, if you'd like. I mean, if we're moving in and I haven't met someone who is probably going to come over a lot, it's about time."

"Mmmm," Aidan wriggled playfully. "I like the sound of that, Mr. Armitage. I know you've fantasized about bending me over one of those massage tables. Oh, wait, never mind. That was _my_ fantasy..."

"I was actually considering pushing you up against that waterfall," Richard in reply twirled a finger into dark curls. I can bend you over anything here, but a waterfall..."

Aidan's eyes glazed over and his pupils grew incrementally as he envisioned the scene. "God." And he knew Richard could feel him growing hard in his jeans. "That sounds so fucking...hot."

"I know. Imagine what I've been thinking about you on that table when you didn't know you wanted me yet. So," Richard tentatively kissed him, "is that a yes?"

"Oh yeah," Aidan ground his pelvis against Richard's to make him understand his approval. "It's a yes, darling." He kissed him fully, tongue delving. "I do like how you think."

Richard pulled him closer only for a short while, before separating them. He wanted this kept for tonight, in the spa, and so smiled mysteriously at him. "You should get going soon. I'll be there on my usual time."

Staying at home while Aidan left for his work that night was painfully difficult. Richard pretended it wasn't but, having wanted to strip Aidan since the moment he got there, Richard's restraint was beginning to wear down. Knowing what was going to happen did not help much, either. He lay on the couch, looking up, and tried to divert his attention. Finally, he got out and to the spa without a text message, wearing his finest suit and a luxurious scent that he knew Aidan loved. That was how he entered the massage studio at last.

Aidan knew that white was a great color for him. It brought out his olive skin, dark eyes and curls. Of course, once Richard made it in the door and locked it behind him, his uniform—as well as Richard's suit that had cost more than Aidan's car—were soon crumbled on the floor. Richard had wasted no time in divesting them both of their clothing and grabbing a bottle of oil.

It was clear his lover hadn't been able to stop thinking about the waterfall all day. The water was colder than either of them expected, and they made quite a mess on the floor before they were done.

Afterwards, Aidan grabbed a fluffy white robe from a nearby closet and wrapped it around Richard's shivering shoulders. "We're going to end up with pneumonia," he admonished. "But—god—that was fun."

He wrapped a second robe around himself and pulled Richard to the spacious room's sofa.

"One of these days, they're going to notice." Part of the thrill, perhaps, but Richard was still glad that Aidan was applying for other jobs. Soon he was going to be the only one receiving massages from these hands, and he was very much looking forward to that. He was breathless, cold, and incredibly hot at the same time, tracing patterns over Aidan's skin and sighing contently, his body still calming down. "I think we should consider getting something like this in the bathroom, but with warm water. I wouldn't get enough of that." Richard closed his eyes. "Just like I'll never get enough of you. I'm a lucky guy, Aid."

"Me too," Aidan sighed, body warming to Richard and tiredness setting in, "about the waterfall, and about the luck," he pulled his feet up under the edge of his robe and asked Richard, "so, do you still want that massage, Mr. Armitage?"

For the answer, Richard's look alone was more than enough.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for indulging us this fluff-fest. 
> 
> We're excited to very soon be bringing you a multi-chaptered Aidan/Dean serial killer murder mystery/love story AU set in wintry Washington, D.C. in which one of our characters has an extraordinary ability.


End file.
